


Out of the Lie

by latecamellia (caramarie)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alien Park Seonghwa, Alien/Human Relationships, Alternate Universe - Space, Blood and Injury, Genetically Enhanced Humans, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Science Fiction, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29275581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramarie/pseuds/latecamellia
Summary: When Seonghwa joins a human crew, he’s determined to keep it quiet that he’s actually an alien shapeshifter. But it turns out it’s harder to live with people and keep that secret than Seonghwa expected. And the captain and his crew have secrets of their own besides.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung & Park Seonghwa, Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong & Park Seonghwa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

Seonghwa had been hired to fix the ship’s water recycler, but after twenty minutes inspecting its innards, he had to conclude it wasn’t broken.

The captain was still in the room, so Seonghwa asked him outright: ‘Have these membranes been cleaned at all since they were installed?’

The captain, Hongjoong, just blinked at him. ‘The membranes need cleaning?’ he said. ‘Wait, you don’t just replace them?’

‘Do you replace your dishes every time they get dirty?’

Hongjoong got a guilty look on his face then, like maybe he was the sort of person who ate packaged meals more often than not. 

It killed Seonghwa, sometimes, that the kind of people who got to run ships didn’t know how to take care of them. ‘Are you telling me you don’t have anyone doing basic maintenance?’

Hongjoong laughed awkwardly. ‘We haven’t sucked vacuum yet,’ he said. ‘I’ll admit we might not be the most, ah … well balanced crew.’

‘Salvage, right?’ Seonghwa said. A lot of salvage operators ran in ones or twos, but those people typically had the sense to take care of their ships. ‘Look, I can get the ’cycler running again, but it’s only going to keep happening –’

‘Unless we learn how to clean it, right,’ Hongjoong said. He looked Seonghwa appraisingly. ‘Do you like just fixing up other people’s ships then?’

‘It’s a job,’ Seonghwa said. It was the kind of job you could do under the table when your visa had expired, but Seonghwa wasn’t going to tell Hongjoong _that_.

‘Want a new job?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Like you said, we don’t know what we’re doing when it comes to taking care of the ship. So do you want a new job?’

He sounded serious.

Seonghwa’s initial instinct was to ask what he thought he was doing. You didn’t just offer a job to a complete stranger just because they knew that the membranes in a water recycler needed cleaning every so often. He held his tongue on that thought, though. His second instinct was to ask _himself_ what he was thinking, wanting to say yes. He knew quite well Hongjoong was only suggesting it because he thought Seonghwa was human. He wouldn’t be so keen to invite him on board if he knew what he actually was.

Seonghwa took long enough saying nothing that Hongjoong went on. ‘I’ll let you think about it. Is there anything you need to, ah, clean the membranes?’

The ship _did_ have the facilities for cleaning them, whether they had been used ever or not, and Hongjoong left him to it. Seonghwa wondered if the last time this had happened, Hongjoong’s ignorance had been taken advantage of, and he’d paid for fresh membranes that weren’t actually necessary.

What sort of person offered someone a job, just for being in possession of some professional ethics?

What sort of person considered taking it?

Seonghwa had been on this planet almost two years now. He’d come on a study-abroad programme, for the language portion of his degree, but he’d cancelled the return ticket. He’d been getting by since then, but barely – there was nothing to fall back on, if he couldn’t scrabble together enough work to keep himself fed and housed. No-one to sponsor him for an actual visa.

If he took a job on a ship, though, food and housing wouldn’t be a problem. The visa wouldn’t be a problem. And even if Hongjoong decided to kick him off again at the next port … well, he wouldn’t be any worse off. He’d have had some security for the travel time at least.

If he could manage to live with humans without letting slip that he wasn’t one of them.

That, maybe, was the sticking point.

* * *

‘I’d need my own room,’ Seonghwa told Hongjoong, after the water recycler had run through its diagnostics green and Hongjoong had made payment.

Hongjoong raised his eyebrows. ‘You need that much privacy?’

‘Yes.’ He hesitated on explaining – maybe Hongjoong wouldn’t ask questions. But there was a traitor part of Seonghwa, that said he wouldn’t want to be discovered and find himself out an airlock because he didn’t have the captain on side. ‘Look, if I tell you this, I need to know it’s just between us. I don’t want anyone else on board knowing.’

‘Of course.’

‘And you can retract your offer if you don’t like it.’

There was a flicker of a smile on Hongjoong’s face. ‘Go on.’

‘You will have assumed, but … I’m not actually human. I’m _estori_.’ He said it very quickly, without looking Hongjoong in the face; he waited for the reaction.

‘A shapeshifter?’ Hongjoong said.

‘That’s right.’

Now, Hongjoong would decide they couldn’t afford an extra crew member after all.

But instead, he said, ‘You can have the room.’

‘Wait, I can?’

‘Sure. I mean, if everything else is amenable. We can work it.’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Some of us already share quarters,’ Hongjoong said, with a twinkle in his eye.

‘No, I mean –’

‘I know what you meant. It’s not a problem.’

Seonghwa hadn’t expected that.

Was he relieved? He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not. Because now he was actually considering this.

Seonghwa wet his lips. ‘What were the other conditions?’ he asked.

* * *

It all happened very quickly after that – packing up his meagre belongings and handing in his room key; lodging the contract; meeting his new workmates. His new shipmates.

There were six of them on the crew, excluding Seonghwa. Jongho, the pilot, was the only one other than Hongjoong who seemed to have a fixed role – the others, apparently, just did what was needed.

Or didn’t do what was needed, if the ’cycler was anything to go by.

There was Mingi, who stood close to Hongjoong like his second. Wooyoung, who was probably the most dangerous to Seonghwa on account of asking the most questions, so that Seonghwa had to decide quickly how much to tell and how much to mislead. Yunho, who pulled Wooyoung back from being too nosy.

‘You’ll scare him off,’ Yunho said, ‘and then who’ll make sure we don’t run out of water for showers again?’

‘Good point,’ Wooyoung said. ‘Yeosang, didn’t you say you wanted to know more about how the ship ran?’

Yeosang was the final crew member, and he said, ‘I’m not sure that would help here.’

‘Yeosang and I will stick to bodies,’ Yunho said.

The two of them were, apparently, trained as paramedics, which Seonghwa assumed might come in useful for when _salvage_ was _salvage and rescue_. He would have put ship maintenance slightly higher on the priority list than doctoring, himself, but maybe that was his bias as a shapeshifter. He kept the thought to himself, at any rate.

* * *

When they left port, Seonghwa felt like a child again. Like the first time he’d left his home planet, wearing another creature’s form. But that had been a holiday, and this, this was real.

Jongho let Seonghwa stay on the bridge for the departure. Hongjoong watched his excitement with amusement.

‘You have left gravity before, right?’

He knew perfectly well that Seonghwa had. But Seonghwa wasn’t inclined to protest at the moment – he just watched the curve of the planet as it turned away from them, shrunk and diminished in view.

‘You say that like we don’t remember _your_ first time,’ Yunho said, from the co-pilot’s chair. Jongho chuckled.

‘Hey!’ Hongjoong said. ‘Not in front of the new guy.’

And if the view was unreal, the banter, how comfortable the crew were, was grounding.

‘I’ve travelled before,’ Seonghwa said. He was surprised how calm his voice sounded. ‘I haven’t been up front, though.’

‘It’s pretty good,’ Jongho said. ‘I would never just want to be a passenger.’

Seonghwa didn’t want to be a passenger any more either. Not in a ship, and not in his own life.

He couldn’t mess this up.

* * *

Seonghwa got on with it.

He drew up a schedule for maintenance, in and out of dock, and he followed it. He made small repairs – when Yeosang’s survey drone got smashed up on a salvage job, or the cold unit lost temperature. He also brought the captain coffee when he stayed up too late, which wasn’t strictly a job requirement, but which seemed necessary all too often.

He went on salvage runs. Because it was useful, sometimes, to know what was reparable or what was scrap. And because he was curious.

The first run he went on was a mining ship that had been left empty – no-one alive, but no bodies, either. The others didn’t say anything at first. Maybe they’d been doing this long enough that they didn’t even question it.

Except that when they’d completed their initial circuit and made it back to the airlock, Yeosang pointed out, ‘No exosuits.’

‘Do you think our miners simply _went out_?’ Yunho asked.

‘You mean they abandoned ship?’ Mingi said. He looked at the walls around him nervously. ‘What would make them do that?’

‘Ship’s haunted,’ Yunho said.

Mingi made a face. ‘Don’t say that.’

‘Could have been repairs gone wrong,’ Hongjoong said. ‘Small crew on a boat like this. One person goes out to help the other, line snaps …’ Hongjoong waved _bye bye_ at the airlock.

‘Sure,’ Yunho said. ‘And now the ship’s haunted.’

It wasn’t a mystery they were being paid to solve, though, so they didn’t dwell on it.

There were a lot of mysteries in space, apparently. Some of them you just had to let go.

The mystery of _this_ ship was how the six of them had come to live on it in the first place. They weren’t just workmates, Seonghwa had realised, they were friends. Seonghwa didn’t have to ask questions to learn that; he just had to listen. They came from the same home world. Yeosang and Wooyoung had been friends since their school years. Hongjoong had been putting up with Mingi’s snoring since he was a child.

They talked about these things, but they didn’t talk about why they’d left home. Seonghwa learned Yeosang and Yunho had worked at the same hospital, but he didn’t learn why they’d stopped. He learned that Wooyoung had brothers, but he didn’t learn why he wasn’t in touch with them. It was this black hole in his knowledge of them, and he didn’t know if they just didn’t speak about it at all, or if they didn’t speak about it around him.

It was a surprise to him, that he cared which it was.

* * *

Seonghwa’s own secret caused no issues until one shore leave. They were back at the port they’d picked Seonghwa up from, and he was a little nervous about it. He thought about taking someone else’s face for the day, but in the end he didn’t – it wasn’t like anyone was going to report back to his family if they saw him. And it was nice, to be somewhere familiar – to walk down streets he knew; to feel it in the air when the weather was going to change, and to duck into a cafe to watch the rain.

Weather was one of the things Seonghwa missed when he was in space – the rain and the wind as well as the sunshine.

But Seonghwa’s enjoyment was broken when he met Yeosang and Wooyoung on the way back to the ship, and Yeosang asked, ‘Hey, you don’t have a brother here?’

Seonghwa’s double-take was obvious enough that Wooyoung said, ‘We saw this guy who looked _just like you_. You don’t have an older brother?’

‘I’m an only child,’ Seonghwa said faintly.

Wooyoung pursed his lips, and he asked, ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ Seonghwa said. Yeosang rolled his eyes like he sympathised.

‘We went up before we realised it wasn’t you,’ Yeosang said.

‘Yeah, then we brought these bracelets; do you want one?’

‘What?’

‘He was selling jewellery,’ Wooyoung said. He didn’t wait for a more definitive response for Seonghwa – he lifted his hand and secured the bracelet around his wrist.

It was still startling, the way they would touch him so casually. They wouldn’t if they knew.

‘Yeosang picked it,’ Wooyoung said.

‘ _Wooyoung._ ’

‘Well, you did.’ Wooyoung was unbothered by Yeosang’s outraged tone.

Seonghwa lifted his wrist to look at the bracelet more closely. It was a pretty thing: woven in black, but with small purple gemstones incorporated into the pattern.

‘Thanks,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t get you anything.’

Wooyoung laughed then, and he clapped Seonghwa’s back like he’d made a joke.

‘Next time,’ Wooyoung said.

‘Don’t listen to him,’ Yeosang said. ‘You don’t have to get us anything.’

‘Shh, Yeosang.’ And then to Seonghwa, ‘I suggest snacks.’

It wasn’t that Yeosang and Wooyoung were suspicious of anything. But Seonghwa couldn’t help but wonder – what if he’d been with them, and the guy had seen him? What if they’d commented, _you know, our new crew member looks just like you_? And the guy had gone, _ah, yes, I did lend out my face to an exchange student this one time._

That easily, Seonghwa could have been exposed.

It could have been a coincidence, of course – sometimes humans did just look like one another. But Seonghwa didn’t believe it was. He stayed on board the ship the next day, spurning the open air to hunt through the local networks for dramas he hadn’t seen before. He didn’t want to risk running into the man whose face he was using.

He wasn’t still meant to be wandering around with this face, after all; when the guy had volunteered his likeness, it was with the understanding that Seonghwa would _go home_. He wasn’t meant to still be wandering round with this face two years later.

Maybe he should have aged it, though. He’d have to start thinking about that sort of thing, if he was going to stay with this crew for any significant length of time. He hadn’t been wearing this form that long, but human faces changed a lot in their twenties, didn’t they? Seonghwa thought they did.

Yeosang came and found him that afternoon. He fitted himself in the space on the sofa next to Seonghwa, and Seonghwa put his tablet down, feeling guilty suddenly that he’d wasted the day.

‘You didn’t go out?’ Yeosang asked. Seonghwa nodded. ‘I guess it can be a bit much, after you’ve been in the black a while.’

It was as good an excuse as any. It was true too, that Seonghwa got overwhelmed easily sometimes. All the human faces, human voices. He could nod his agreement, and it wasn’t a lie.

‘What have you been up to?’ Yeosang asked. Looking over at Seonghwa’s tablet, he noticed the bracelet around his wrist. ‘Oh. I didn’t think you’d actually wear it.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Seonghwa said. It made him feel a little shy, how pleased Yeosang was, and he changed the subject back. ‘I’ve just been downloading things while we’re in range.’

Yeosang laughed, when Seonghwa showed him the list, but it wasn’t a rude laugh; Seonghwa thought he was just surprised. Well, he was human, and he thought Seonghwa was human – it wasn’t like when Seonghwa had been back home, where his hobbies had made him odd.

‘Jongho made us watch that one,’ Yeosang said, pointing out one of the titles. ‘It was pretty good for the first half. Then it got silly.’

‘Oh?’

Yeosang nodded. ‘They lost the plot. That’s meant to be good though.’ This time he pointed out a movie, leaning into Seonghwa’s space. He was looking at the screen and not at Seonghwa, but it was still enough to make Seonghwa feel flustered.

‘Did you want to watch it together, maybe?’ Seonghwa said. Yeosang didn’t seem to notice how nervous he was. He agreed to it easily.

Watching something together was a safer thing to do than talking. But maybe not entirely safe. Seonghwa had been pretending to be human long enough to be susceptible to human emotions. Like fancying a cute guy.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes, Seonghwa could almost forget that he _wasn’t_ human. It never lasted. The next reminder was Seonghwa’s own fault: they were on a salvage job, he and Mingi detaching the dead ship’s ansible when Seonghwa dropped his end of it – his stupid human hands were sweaty. He tried to catch it again, but only scored a long gash in his forearm.

Mingi held the ansible on his own a moment, and he went pale as Seonghwa stood there.

‘Don’t just look at it,’ he said. ‘Shit, you’ve got to … put pressure on it or something.’

Mingi set the ansible on the ground, and Seonghwa found himself doing as he was told. He slipped his jacket off and used that to wrap around the wound, tightly. Mingi helped him secure it, although he looked as if he might be sick.

If Seonghwa had been on his own, he would have shifted forms and dealt with the injury that way. Without someone here, he had to damp down on that instinct. The pain didn’t make it easy though. He’d never seen the interior of his own flesh so intimately before. How did humans deal with this sort of thing all the time?

‘We’ll get someone to look at it,’ Mingi said.

‘Do we have to?’ Seonghwa said faintly, knowing as the words came out that they would sound ridiculous. He was dripping blood; there it was on the floor.

‘I’m telling Yeosang to meet us back on the ship,’ Mingi said. ‘Come on.’

Obediently, Seonghwa followed Mingi out. He held his arm against his chest, hand gripped around the wound, like he could hold his body closed that way.

Could he make the wound less serious than it was, without losing form completely? Maybe, if it hadn’t been for the pain. He couldn’t concentrate with a pain like this.

Mingi commsed Yeosang, and they met him back in the ship’s lounge. Yeosang had already grabbed the medical kit.

‘What did you do?’ he asked, when he saw Seonghwa. Seonghwa knew from his tone that he wasn’t going to be able to bolshe his way out of this.

‘Gouged myself on the ansible casing,’ he said.

‘It looked pretty nasty,’ Mingi said.

‘You better sit down and I’ll take a look,’ Yeosang said. ‘Thanks, Mingi.’

Yeosang laid his hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder, and he steered him until Seonghwa sat down like he was meant to. Mingi dithered a moment then left.

Sitting down was a relief. Yeosang put down the medical kit and knelt down beside him, taking Seonghwa’s hand in his.

‘Can you wiggle your fingers for me?’ Yeosang asked. His voice was different from usual. Steady.

Seonghwa wriggled his fingers.

‘Good,’ Yeosang said. ‘And can you feel this?’ He traced his fingers along the side of Seonghwa’s hand, and along his fingers. And Seonghwa said yes to everything. He wasn’t used to having his bare skin touched, and it made him emotional, even though Yeosang was doing it clinically.

‘It doesn’t seem like there’s any nerve damage,’ Yeosang said. If he noticed Seonghwa’s eyes pricking, he didn’t comment on it. He stopped to put gloves on, and then, talking about Seonghwa’s makeshift bandage, he said, ‘I’m going to take this off now, okay?’

Seonghwa nodded.

When Yeosang had unwrapped Seonghwa’s arm, he whistled through his teeth. Seonghwa tried to resist looking, but couldn’t. There was so much red.

‘I don’t think you’ve done too much damage,’ Yeosang said, who was more used to this kind of thing, ‘but you’re going to need stitches.’

‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ Seonghwa said. ‘Can’t you just tape it?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Yeosang said. ‘I liked doing stitches.’

‘You … like doing them?’

Yeosang got a little smile on his face, and Seonghwa wondered if he was being teased. Was it really the right time for teasing? But he supposed this had been Yeosang’s job; he must have seen worse.

‘Sure,’ Yeosang said. ‘It’s my favourite thing.’

He used an anaesthetic, at least, before he got the needle out. Seonghwa didn’t want to watch, but there was something fascinating about it. How unsophisticated it was.

‘Have you had stitches before?’ Yeosang asked.

‘No,’ Seonghwa said. It was probably better to look at Yeosang and not what he was doing. ‘I never hurt myself like this before.’

‘Lucky,’ Yeosang said, and he flashed his teeth in a smile. ‘You should see some of my scars.’

Scars. Seonghwa hadn’t even thought about the healing process. His arm was going to keep hurting, and he wouldn’t even be able to shift it away because people would _notice_.

‘Seonghwa? You doing okay?’

Yeosang probably thought he was freaking out. ‘I’m okay,’ Seonghwa said. Humans went through this all the time, he told himself. ‘Do you hurt yourself a lot?’

Again, Yeosang smiled. Seonghwa didn’t think he could smile like that, if he were the one stitching someone up.

‘One time I broke my leg and you could see the bone.’

Seonghwa made a strangled noise. ‘Don’t tell me that!’

Yeosang laughed. ‘It was pretty gross,’ he said, in a low tone, like he was telling a secret. ‘I thought Wooyoung was going to faint when he saw it.’

‘Oh,’ Seonghwa said. ‘How old were you?’

‘Nineteen,’ Yeosang said. He frowned, vaguely, like the number was meaningful. ‘I had to have an operation, but it was fine.’

He finished his stitches neatly, and Seonghwa wondered what _it was fine_ actually meant.

He didn’t ask. Yeosang switched to rattling off a series of instructions that mostly came down to _don’t be an idiot_ , while he re-dressed the wound. When he was done, Seonghwa’s arm was wrapped in a proper, clean bandage. It looked very tidy. You wouldn’t know he’d been cut open at all.

‘It’s not too tight?’ Yeosang asked. Seonghwa shook his head. He stretched his fingers out, as if to demonstrate that all was well.

‘Good,’ Yeosang said. ‘Don’t stand up too quickly.’

‘It’s just my arm,’ Seonghwa said.

‘Yeah, but you were looking pretty woozy before,’ Yeosang said. ‘Probably you should have something sweet to drink.’

‘Okay,’ Seonghwa said. It wasn’t like he knew how to heal an injured human body. He started to get to his feet, slowly.

‘Actually, don’t stand up,’ Yeosang said. ‘I’ll get you something.’

Seonghwa sat back down. He felt a little bit like he’d been told off. It wasn’t unpleasant, though – more like when a parent told you off for doing something silly. It was like being taken care of. It _was_ being taken care of, and it was completely unnecessary. Because he didn’t need the care at all.

That was another guilt, on top of the lie about what he was. But he let Yeosang do it anyway.

* * *

Hongjoong was bemused, when he came to check up on Seonghwa later, when he was alone.

‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ Hongjoong said, ‘but wouldn’t it just have been easier to tell Yeosang what you are?’

Seonghwa curled his arm up protectively, as if Hongjoong’s words were a physical threat. ‘I can’t.’

‘It’s not like Yeosang would care. No-one here would.’

Seonghwa shook his head. ‘I just want to seem normal,’ he said. He couldn’t even bring himself to say _be_ normal; it wasn’t as if there was anything abnormal in what he was, but maybe it was because he could pass for human that Seonghwa felt there was.

Or maybe it was because he’d never felt normal at home either.

‘Yeah, well, seeming normal doesn’t mean that you are normal,’ Hongjoong said. ‘I’m not just talking about you, either.’

Seonghwa met his eyes, only briefly; there was something ironic in Hongjoong’s expression. Seonghwa couldn’t help but ask, ‘Who are you talking about?’

‘The kind of people who live in a spaceship,’ Hongjoong said. Like an admonishment – if Seonghwa wasn’t going to tell the others what he was, why should Hongjoong tell him anything?

But Seonghwa wasn’t lying. Or he hadn’t felt like he was lying. Until he let Yeosang put him through his unnecessary treatment. That was more of a lie than just keeping something secret.

But Seonghwa couldn’t take it back now.

* * *

Yeosang didn’t seem like the kind of person who kept secrets. He wasn’t suspicious enough to be the kind of person who kept secrets. He checked diligently on how Seonghwa was healing, and that meant Seonghwa couldn’t cheat. He would sit and talk with Seonghwa while Seonghwa was doing the more brainless parts of his job, or he would ask him how something was done so that he could help. And if their conversations never ran too deep, that was fine; it was comfortable.

Seonghwa was too comfortable with Yeosang, probably.

Sometimes the crew would watch things together, and if they kept at it too late, it wasn’t unusual for someone to nod off. That someone was never Seonghwa; he couldn’t afford to nod off where anyone might see him. He made it his job instead to chivvy the others to bed, to keep them to a shift cycle instead of letting them drift in the unchanging timelessness of space.

Only sometimes, if it were just him and Yeosang, Seonghwa couldn’t bring himself to wake Yeosang to send him to bed. Yeosang would usually wake up when the movie ended anyway, and so Seonghwa would let him sleep that long, with his head drooped against Seonghwa’s shoulder, or his legs propped on top of him.

And sometimes, Seonghwa found he drifted off too. Never for long – he would wake up with a guilty lurch, with no-one having seen but feeling like he’d risked a nightmare.

And then, once, waking to see Wooyoung standing there in his pyjamas.

Wooyoung said, ‘You know, I thought when I came in that you were Yeosang.’ His voice was drowsy; he must have woken from sleep himself. ‘But Yeosang’s there.’ Still with his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder.

‘I’m not Yeosang,’ Seonghwa said, as Wooyoung came to sit on the couch beside them with a bounce; Yeosang grumbled and tried to bury his head against Seonghwa’s side.

Wooyoung probably thought he’d still been dreaming, Seonghwa told himself. But his heart was racing. Even if Wooyoung took his own confusion in stride, Seonghwa couldn’t.

He was getting too comfortable.

Wooyoung put Yeosang to bed under protest; Seonghwa went to bed alone, and found he resented it.

Maybe he should leave.

He couldn’t help the thought even as he rejected it; it wasn’t as if it would be easier anywhere else. He would always have to be careful.

Unless he just told them all.

He didn’t want to tell them. He didn’t want them to change the way they treated him – to avoid touching him, lest he steal their face (it was too late on that count anyway). To treat him like a thief, or an imposter – or worse, as a novelty.

Hongjoong could say that they wouldn’t care, but Seonghwa knew that humans cared. Even if they did accept it, it would change things.

And Yeosang …

Seonghwa couldn’t believe he’d taken his face. He must have been dreaming about him. Yeosang would _definitely_ change the way he treated Seonghwa if he knew. But then, what was the value in being treated with affection if you could never let it become anything more? If you couldn’t believe that it wouldn’t change if you told the truth?

* * *

In the end, Seonghwa didn’t need to say anything to be found out. They were watching a drama, and the twist about the woman’s supposed childhood friend turned out to be that _actually_ the friend had been replaced by a shapeshifter who was out for revenge … and Seonghwa, instead of rolling his eyes, stiffened. He said nothing, but nor did he smile or laugh for the rest of the episode. After which he declared he was ‘too tired’ for another, and so went to bed early.

He hated how he felt, then. It was only a silly plot twist on a silly revenge show. It shouldn’t make him feel like this.

It was late, when there was a knock on his door. But Seonghwa was still wide awake, and he went to open it.

It was Wooyoung. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘are you free for a minute?’

‘I was in bed,’ Seonghwa said.

‘So you’re totally free.’ Wooyoung came in and he sat down on Seonghwa’s bed, while Seonghwa stayed standing.

‘What is it?’ Seonghwa asked. It was a small room, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

‘Nothing,’ Wooyoung said. ‘I just wondered if you wanted to talk.’

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

‘Look,’ Wooyoung said, ‘I know we haven’t known each other that long really. And if you want to keep yourself to yourself, that’s fine. But you don’t have to, you know?’

Seonghwa really didn’t know how to respond.

Wooyoung had been in the room, but he hadn’t even been paying attention to what they were watching. So it wasn’t like he should have guessed why Seonghwa was upset. There was no reason for him to have guessed.

Except that it was Wooyoung who had seen him sleeping. Seonghwa had wanted to think Wooyoung would have assumed he was dreaming, but that was wishful thinking, wasn’t it? Wooyoung knew.

‘So do you want to talk?’

Gingerly, Seonghwa sat down beside him. ‘What’s to say?’ If Wooyoung had worked it out, there was nothing to say.

‘I don’t know,’ Wooyoung said, ‘that’s why I’m asking.’ He nudged Seonghwa’s shoulder. ‘If you want to just yell about Jongho being inconsiderate with his choice of dramas, you can do that.’

‘It’s just a dumb plot twist,’ Seonghwa mumbled. ‘It’s not worth getting worked up about.’

‘Yeah, but you are, right? Did you think we wouldn’t notice?’

‘People _don’t_ notice.’

‘Well, I noticed. I do actually pay attention, you know.’

He did know.

He knew now.

‘Most people don’t.’ They just paid attention to themselves. To the things that would get them what they wanted.

‘Is that how come you thought you could get away with it?’

Seonghwa felt very small. ‘I wasn’t trying to get away with anything,’ he said. ‘I just … it’s easier to let people believe what they want to believe.’

‘That’s fine if it’s just, like, people you say hi to in passing. But you live with us.’

‘I know,’ Seonghwa said. Maybe he should have considered that more when he took the job. He’d lived with others while he was studying, but there his identity had been public knowledge. He couldn’t have kept it secret if he tried – there was too much gossip on campus. He’d been more comfortable after he started working, when people had no idea. But he was living alone, then.

‘Does anyone else know?’ Wooyoung asked.

‘Hongjoong does. That’s all.’

‘Well, Hongjoong _would_.’ Wooyoung chewed his lip. ‘So were you born amongst humans? Or did you just decide to move?’

Seonghwa shook his head. ‘I came as a student,’ he said. ‘That was … two years ago?’

‘And you didn’t want to go back home after?’

Seonghwa shook his head again.

‘Do you just like humanity that much, or what?’

Seonghwa laughed. He surprised himself; he wouldn’t have expected himself to laugh, on being discovered.

‘It’s not that humanity’s anything special,’ he said. He didn’t really want to get into his reasons for not wanting to go home; he felt raw enough already.

‘That’s an “or what”, then.’

Seonghwa smiled, and he ducked his head.

‘So that guy we saw who looked like you …’

‘Probably,’ Seonghwa said. ‘People volunteer. It’s part of the … induction process?’

‘You have to touch them, right?’

‘Right.’ He could guess what Wooyoung would be thinking. ‘I used to wear gloves. But it got hard to explain, when people didn’t already know.’

‘Huh.’ Wooyoung took his hand, then, and he turned it over, palm-side up; Seonghwa was too surprised to react. ‘Fingerprints and everything?’

‘Sure. I mean, I can change that as well, but … it’s easier to keep a stable form.’

‘Except when you’re sleeping?’

‘That’s a bit different.’

‘Is it?’ Wooyoung was still holding his hand.

‘That’s not a conscious thing. It’s just like … your brain sorting stuff out.’

‘Like when you’re dreaming.’

Seonghwa nodded. Wooyoung looked at him slyly, then. He let Seonghwa’s hand go, and he leaned back on his hands.

‘Do you mind me asking this stuff?’

Seonghwa shook his head. He didn’t mind questions. At least, when they weren’t leading somewhere unpleasant. Or inappropriate. Like being propositioned by people who wanted to have sex with themselves.

He didn’t think Wooyoung was about to proposition him.

By the time Wooyoung left, Seonghwa should have been sleepy, but he still wasn’t. He was too wound up.

Somehow, two people knowing made a misdirection feel like a lie more truly. Seonghwa should have been relieved at Wooyoung’s easy-going reaction, only now he was reliant on Wooyoung keeping his secret. It wasn’t that he thought Wooyoung would tell anyone if Seonghwa didn't want him to. But Wooyoung hadn’t agreed to be his secretkeeper, and it was unfair to expect him to. And he was Yeosang’s best friend.

If he did consider telling the others – how would he even do it? Make an announcement over dinner? Pretend like it had never been a secret at all? Except, oh no, he had the scar that put the lie to that.

He’d thought about shifting it away, now the wound was healed. If anyone noticed, Seonghwa could just have said he healed well.

Except because the wound had healed under Yeosang’s care, Seonghwa didn’t want to be rid of the scar. It wasn’t as if it were an impediment. And he did _want_ Yeosang to notice it, in a way. He wanted …

He wanted to tell Yeosang.

He wanted to tell Yeosang and have him not turn away, or to change toward him.

And after that …

Seonghwa lived in a human body. He only wanted what most humans wanted, at some point. To be loved.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, the ship made an abrupt change of course.

No-one _told_ Seonghwa this – Seonghwa had to put it together himself. It wasn’t like Hongjoong was required to consult, but was disorienting. Jongho, when he asked about it, just said, _yes, we changed course, the captain asked for it, and you’d better ask him that._

So Seonghwa pulled him aside and he did. Hongjoong looked braced for it even before Seonghwa said anything, and that felt odd.

‘Why did we change course?’ Seonghwa asked. ‘I thought we were headed for that busted courier –’ 

‘It’s a personal thing,’ Hongjoong said.

Seonghwa blinked. That was possibly the last thing he would have expected Hongjoong to say. ‘It’s what?’

‘A personal thing,’ Hongjoong repeated. ‘Look, we all have our secrets, don’t we?’

‘Right,’ Seonghwa said, suddenly worried he’d offended Hongjoong. Even if it was only through his own secretiveness. ‘Sorry, you don’t need to explain yourself to me.’ It wasn’t as if it was anything to Seonghwa if they abandoned this particular job.

‘You know,’ Hongjoong said, ‘I thought you’d be planning to leave.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Not that I want you to leave,’ Hongjoong said. ‘Don’t look so worried. But really, I thought you just took this job as a way to get offworld.’

‘I mean … I did?’ He could slip under the radar so long – longer than most – but he’d always felt like someone was going to chase him up (his family) or accuse him (his peers), and even if he had been able to get a new visa, he just wanted to disappear.

He had wanted to disappear.

But that was in a different time and place. Here and now, he wanted to stay.

‘The salvage work is just an excuse,’ Hongjoong said.

‘It is?’

Hongjoong nodded. And he sat down at his desk and he leaned against it, his head in his hands.

‘We were running away,’ he said. “Mingi and I. The others were only helping us. From …’ He bit his lip. ‘That part’s complicated.’

Seonghwa waited.

‘We were experiments,’ Hongjoong said. He met Seonghwa’s eyes, and while Seonghwa was reluctant to ask more, he somehow felt that Hongjoong expected him too.

So he asked, ‘What kind of experiments?’

‘Genetic ones,’ Hongjoong said. And he laughed, sudden and surprised at himself. ‘So, you see, I’m not human either. Only pretending.’

Seonghwa wasn’t sure it was quite the same.

‘They’d like to get us back,’ Hongjoong said, ‘and that’s why we can’t stay in any one place too long. It’s not happening. We’re never going back.’

‘If that’s the case … why did you trust me on your ship?’ A shapeshifter was about the definition of a traitor, in human stories.

‘Oh,’ Hongjoong said. ‘Well, I wasn’t really worried about that. I’m a pretty good judge of character.’

Again, Seonghwa waited.

‘Okay,’ Hongjoong said, ‘I’m psychic. I have psychic powers. Are you happy?’

‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘Exactly my point!’

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. ‘Is Mingi psychic too?’

‘In a different way,’ Hongjoong said. ‘He’s just … very convincing.’

Hongjoong’s explanation _wasn’t_ particularly convincing. But it seemed a little late in the piece for Hongjoong to have had a mental break and decided he could hear people’s thoughts.

‘So the place we’re going now …’ Seonghwa said, ‘that has to do with the people you escaped from?’

‘We think they’re moving someone,’ Hongjoong said. ‘Someone like us. So we want to intercept them.’

‘Were you going to tell me this?’ Seonghwa asked. And Hongjoong looked doubtful all of a sudden.

‘I hadn’t decided,’ he said. ‘I was still deciding.’

‘Then what made you decide?’

‘I guess … the fact that you were just gonna go with it. You’re a funny guy, Park Seonghwa.’

Seonghwa frowned at him.

‘It’s a good thing,’ Hongjoong said. ‘That’s probably why you’re here.’

‘I’m here because you offered me a job.’

‘Yea, but more existentially. You don’t believe in fate?’

‘No, but I’m not the psychic.’

Hongjoong laughed again. ‘I’m not that sort of psychic,’ he said. ‘Actually, I don’t either. Believe in fate. Fate’s just what we choose to do, right? Everyone. All of us.’

That, Seonghwa could agree with.

He’d chosen to leave his family. He’d chosen not to go home. He’d chosen to take this job, join this crew, and he’d chosen too to keep secrets from them.

Would Hongjoong have told him sooner, if he’d been more honest? Maybe not. They were all just trying to protect themselves.

But maybe he should choose to trust them a little more.

* * *

When Seonghwa went to find Yeosang, he was on the floor of the stock room, going over medical supplies with Yunho.

‘What are you two up to?’ Seonghwa asked.

‘Oh, hey,’ Yunho said. He was marking things down on his tablet. ‘Did Hongjoong tell you where we’re headed?’

‘Yeah.’

‘We’re doing inventory,’ Yeosang said. ‘Because someone’s going to get themselves hurt.’

‘Did that happen before?’ Seonghwa asked. Yeosang made it sound as if it had.

‘Wanna see?’ Yunho asked. He pulled up his shirt without waiting for an answer; the scar on his torso was in fact impressive. He turned around, so that Seonghwa could see the matching scar on his back.

‘He’s lucky to have survived,’ Yeosang said.

Yunho dropped his shirt back down. ‘I got pushed onto a metal bar,’ Yunho said. ‘It wasn’t much fun.’

‘I can’t imagine it would be,’ Seonghwa said.

‘You can go if you like,’ Yeosang said to Yunho. ‘Seonghwa will help me finish up.’

‘Okay,’ Yunho said. It was a very meaningful _okay_. ‘I’ll see you both after, then.’

‘What are we doing?’ Seonghwa asked.

Yunho, he thought, would have been disappointed, because Yeosang did get him to help with the inventory, marking down the number of items as Yeosang called them out.

Seonghwa didn’t mind. It was a straightforward task, and there was something relaxing about it for that.

That made things easier, then.

‘That should be everything,’ Yeosang said, at last. And he came to check the numbers over Seonghwa’s shoulder, leaning into his space in a way that made Seonghwa feel hyperaware – of himself, and of Yeosang next to him.

‘Not that it will make a difference if something really bad happens,’ Yeosang said. He was looking at the numbers, not at Seonghwa, but their faces were very close together. 

‘I have to tell you something,’ Seonghwa said.

‘Okay,’ Yeosang said, and he straightened up away from Seonghwa, which was a relief and a disappointment. But that was why Seonghwa had to tell him, wasn’t it?

‘Hongjoong knows this already,’ Seonghwa said. ‘And Wooyoung, but he worked it out himself. It’s not that I told him.’ It seemed important to say that last part.

‘Oaky,’ Yeosang said, and his expression had changed – like maybe he’d thought he knew what Seonghwa was talking about and now he didn’t.

‘I’m _estori_ ,’ Seonghwa said. ‘I’m not human.’

And Yeosang definitely hadn’t been expecting that, because his eyes went wide even though Seongha could see he tried to control himself.

‘But I stitched you up,’ Yeosang said. As if having got Seonghwa’s blood on him was somehow a counterargument.

‘It’s not like I could have stopped you without ...’ Seonghwa didn’t want to say it. Yeosang’s eyes were still quite wide, and it made Seonghwa feel bad to look at him. ‘I didn’t want you to know,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want anyone to know. I’m sorry.’

‘Wow,’ Yeosang said. ‘That’s really not where I was expecting this to go.’ And he sat back down on the floor, pulling his knees up against his chest. Seonghwa would have felt ridiculous if he’d stayed standing, so he sat down too.

Yeosang glanced over at him, and Seonghwa wondered if he was mad. He looked a little wild-eyed. ‘Wooyoung knows?’ he asked.

‘Only for a few days,’ Seonghwa said. ‘He saw me when we fell asleep that time, and then … well, he worked it out.’

‘Right. Right.’ Yeosang shut his eyes, and he leaned his head back against the cupboards.

He was going to change now. He was going to treat Seonghwa differently. And Seonghwa didn’t want him to. The way he wanted Yeosang to treat him …

‘Also,’ Seonghwa said, ‘I really like you.’

Yeosang was more startled then. He turned his head so sharply. But Seonghwa may as well say it all, if he said any of it.

‘You do?’ Yeosang said faintly.

Seonghwa nodded.

Yeosang fluttered his eyes shut, and Seonghwa didn’t know what he was thinking. Maybe Hongjoong would have known; it seemed convenient in some ways. Seonghwa could echo Yeosang’s face in his sleep, but he couldn’t know what Yeosang was thinking.

‘Okay,’ Yeosang said, under his breath. ‘Okay.’ He opened his eyes again. He reached out and he took Seonghwa’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

‘Don’t make me put stitches in you you don’t need,’ Yeosang said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Seonghwa said, but Yeosang shook his head.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘I just …’ His fingers tightened on Seonghwa’s. ‘I like you too,’ he said. He didn’t look at Seonghwa right then, like _telling_ Seonghwa and looking at Seonghwa were too much at the same time.

He laughed, suddenly and out of nowhere. ‘That is really not how I was expecting that to go,’ he said again, and he did meet Seonghwa’s eyes. He looked happy.

Seonghwa had never had anyone look so gladly at him before. And if he hadn’t already been half in love with Yeosang, he would have fallen for him then.

‘Can I kiss you?’ Seonghwa asked.

And Yeosang’s smile grew more bashful, but he nodded.

* * *

It wasn’t how Seonghwa had been expecting things to go either. He felt like he was high, like he was walking around in a daydream.

Hongjoong took one look at him, next time he saw him, and he said, ‘Oh.’

Seonghwa almost panicked – how much could Hongjoong _tell_ – but Hongjoong put his hands in front of him and said, ‘It’s fine. I’m not gonna judge.’

And Seonghwa didn’t know what Hongjoong meant by that, so he just went _ahhhhh_ inside head, until Hongjoong laughed out loud.

‘It’s okay,’ Hongjoong said. ‘You’re allowed to have a relationship.’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ Seonghwa said, because he thought that even if Hongjoong did have psychic powers, he should still only respond to what people actually said.

‘You’re grinning though,’ Hongjoong said, ‘even when no-one’s there.’

That stopped Seonghwa’s freak-out. ‘I was?’

Hongjoong nodded. ‘It’s cute.’

Seonghwa didn’t _want_ to be cute. But he _was_ happy. More than he had been in a while.

It was a strange thing to realise.

‘Anyway,’ Hongjoong said, ‘I wanted to talk to you about something else, if you have a moment?’

Seonghwa did. They sat down in the kitchen, which was empty for the moment, and Hongjoong began to explain the plan for intercepting the other ship. They’d do it on station, rather than in space, which meant they could take a less aggressive approach.

‘We can get past security on the station easily enough,’ Hongjoong said. ‘We just need Mingi to talk to them.’ Hongjoong met Seonghwa’s eyes then, over the table. ‘The crew will have protection against that, though.’

‘So you need a different way to actually get on board?’

‘I have an idea about that. I’m not sure you’ll be up for it though.’

‘Me?’ Seonghwa was willing to help, of course, knowing what he now knew. But that didn’t seem to be what Hongjoong was in doubt of.

‘We just need to get to one of them first,’ Hongjoong said, ‘and get them out the way.’

‘When you say “get to” –’

‘They’ll be expecting us. They won’t be expecting a shapeshifter.’

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong for a long moment. It wasn’t even that he was considering it; his mind just went blank. And then the word came out without his conscious intent: ‘No.’

‘You won’t do it?’ Hongjoong asked. He tilted his head a little, sizing up Seonghwa’s reaction.

‘No, I … is this why you invited me on board?’

‘It’s not why I invited you on board,’ Hongjoong said, his voice dry. ‘But if you’re here, and if you were willing, why wouldn’t I use that?’

‘I can’t be a thief,’ Seonghwa said. It wasn’t the right word; it didn’t mean in this language what it meant in his own.

‘Then I’ll think of something else,’ Hongjoong said. ‘There’s still time’

Seonghwa knew what Hongjoong wanted him to say. He couldn’t even say for certain that it wouldn’t be the right thing for him to do. But he’d never wanted to be the sort of person who shifted with ill intent; he could hardly even face the idea in his own mind.

So he left Hongjoong disappointed. To his credit, Hongjoong didn’t _seem_ disappointed. But he was probably used to holding his cards close to his chest. He would know how strongly Seonghwa felt, at least. He must know.

But Seonghwa couldn’t help remembering the scar Yunho had shown him. Humans were so fragile. It would be safer for them if Seonghwa did help. If Seonghwa could get on board unquestioned … work out where they were keeping their experimental subjects …

No, he wasn’t considering it. He couldn’t be considering it.

But the thought kept turning in his mind.

* * *

He didn’t know, that evening, if Hongjoong had said something to Yeosang. The two of them were watching a movie, and afterwards, tucked up against Seonghwa’s side on the couch, Yeosang said, ‘Do you know how we met Hongjoong and Mingi?’

‘No,’ Seonghwa said. ‘You don’t talk about it.’ It was the thing, Seonghwa thought, that had put the six of them on this ship together. The thing Seonghwa was an outsider to.

‘Yunho and I had gone for a drink after our shift, and we found them as we were leaving. Mingi was bleeding, but people were just ignoring it. And we couldn’t do that, obviously, so … Yunho was going to call it in but Mingi stopped him.’

‘Mingi did?’

‘Yeah, well, I think it’s forgivable in those circumstances,’ Yeosang said, with an amused look in his eye. ‘So we took them back to our place. Well, Wooyoung and my’s place. Freaked Wooyoung out when we showed up to try and patch up this stranger on the couch. He’d been shot –’ Yeosang touched his shoulder – ‘but we managed to get the bullet out and stop the bleeding.

‘I was half expecting them to disappear in the night. I thought it must’ve been a gang thing.’ He laughed, then. ‘But they were still there in the morning. I don’t know if Hongjoong slept or if he just watched over Mingi all night.’

‘That’s how you guys met?’

Yeosang nodded. ‘It was right after they’d escaped. I remember getting ready for my next shift, and Hongjoong said maybe I shouldn’t go. He hadn’t explained anything yet, but he said if anything seemed off, we should just get out. Like helping them might have got us in trouble.

‘I remember I’d just got into work and Wooyoung called me, cos Hongjoong had freaked out and said they had to move, that they knew we’d helped them. I almost still went in. But then Yunho said we’d been rostered off for the morning and called into a meeting instead, and –’ Yeosang tilted his head – ‘I don’t know, it was too weird. I guess at that point they thought they could just talk us into giving them up? And if we’d gone along with it, I guess we could’ve just kept on living normally.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘Wooyoung was so worked up when he called,’ Yeosang said. ‘I don’t know what they would have told us … I guess that they were criminals or something. I probably would’ve believed it. After all, what we’re planning to do now is a crime, isn’t it?’

Yeosang met Seonghwa’s eyes, and Seonghwa realised he hadn’t actually thought of it in that way. He’d believed Hongjoong’s story; therefore he didn’t actually think it was wrong to break into someone else’s ship and set free their captives.

What did that say about Seonghwa?

‘What happened next?’

‘Oh … Yunho and I skipped out on work. Yunho told our manager we had food poisoning. We’d eaten together, so it could have been. And Wooyoung had taken Hongjoong and Mingi to Jongho’s place. I honestly don’t know why he picked Jongho … maybe because he already thought we’d have to run? This is actually Jongho’s ship, you know.’ He touched a hand to the wall.

‘It is?’

‘Yeah. His family is _rich_. Not that means much now. It’s not like we can go home any more.’

‘I didn’t know it was like that.’

‘How could you?’ Yeosang said. ‘We didn’t tell you.’ Seonghwa had tried to keep himself to himself, and they’d done the same thing in turn.

It was a wonder they’d ever formed any connection at all.

‘We couldn’t even go back to the apartment then, because it was under surveillance.’

‘Couldn’t you have just said you were made to do it?’ Seonghwa asked. ‘You didn’t have to go with them.’

‘It felt like we did at the time,’ Yeosang said. ‘I don’t mean Mingi talked us into it, I mean … we were getting phone calls from our family because why did the police want to talk to us? And the stuff they were saying … it wasn’t going to brush over so easily. Yunho tried to go back to his parents, and … he hardly got away.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Seonghwa said.

‘I mean, it’s turned out okay. Apart from not being able to go home.’

Yeosang wasn’t like Seonghwa; he hadn’t left on purpose.

‘Is it okay?’

‘Yeah.’ Yeosang reached out and took Seonghwa’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “Actually … I always wanted to go to space. I missed out on the corps when I broke my leg, and … I don’t know. It’s probably less exciting than I thought. There’s a lot of dead time on a ship. But, you know, it makes for a good story.’ Yeosang met Seonghwa’s eyes, and then he looked away quickly. ‘I’m talking a lot tonight.’

‘I don’t think I ever considered in my life what _makes a good story_ ,’ Seonghwa said.

Yeosang gave a wry smile. ‘That’s because you don’t tell anyone anything.’

It was a fair accusation. ‘I’m not used to it,’ Seonghwa said. But he wondered if what he had said was even true. Hadn’t he left home because he wanted a different story for himself?

He didn’t want that story to be one where he didn’t help when he was asked to.

‘There’s no rush,’ Yeosang said, talking about something else, his weight a comfortable reassurance at Seonghwa’s side.

He would talk to Hongjoong again, Seonghwa thought. Just maybe not right this minute.


	4. Chapter 4

Seonghwa and Jongho were already at the bar when the target arrived. They watched him scan the room for someone who wasn’t going to show up, then settle himself with a beer to wait.

Jongho had a beer as well; Seonghwa wasn’t drinking. He was wound up enough as it was; he didn’t need the alcohol adding to that.

Their target was one of the researchers on the project that had produced Hongjoong and Mingi. Hongjoong had denied having met him before, but Seonghwa wasn’t sure he believed him. The guy was in his thirties and single, which was why he was spending his first night in port hoping for a hook-up. But the woman wasn’t going to show. Because they were catfishing him. Or Wooyoung was. And right about now, Wooyoung was going to message him to say _so sorry, something’s come up_ , a million apologetic emojis. Seonghwa saw the moment the man read the message, the way his face went flat and unimpressed. He drank the rest of his beer very quickly, before he sent a message back, and then he stood up – going to get another drink? Going to leave?

The next part was Jongho’s: if the man got another drink, Jongho would go up and make conversation, commiserate, and maybe slip something in his beer so they could do this nicely. Otherwise, Jongho would follow him out, drag him into an alley somewhere – Wooyoung had picked an out-of-the-way bar for this reason – and things would go less pleasantly. Seonghwa had committed to the plan either way. He told himself that what the man was doing was wrong, that he was experimenting on children, keeping them prisoner. He told himself this as the man left the bar, and as Jongho went after him. And Seonghwa followed.

Jongho was efficient enough that taking the man out of action was less unpleasant than Seonghwa had expected; he had the man up against a wall in no time, whispering something in his ear that made the man stop struggling and go still. Jongho looked over and nodded at Seonghwa, who was watching from the street.

Seonghwa came over and he laid a hand on the back of the man’s neck. His skin was clammy; he must have been afraid. Seonghwa should have pitied him.

But right then, he didn’t.

He shifted. Jongho boggled, seeing him change faces, seeing him grow taller, heavier. The man’s expression was distinctly more horrified. Because Seonghwa was a human nightmare, wasn’t he?

But maybe a nightmare that served a purpose.

Seonghwa took the guy’s clothes. His own fit poorly, in this form, and would be conspicuous besides. He took the man’s wallet, and his ID card – a thief in the human sense of the word as well as the _estori_ sense.

‘You’re not one of ours,’ the man said. ‘Why are you doing this?’

Jongho gave him a shake, to tell him to shut up. Seonghwa didn’t bother to answer. If the man didn’t have a sense of ethics that precluded experimenting on people, Seonghwa couldn’t explain it to him.

Seonghwa left Jongho to make sure the guy didn’t alert anyone, and made his way to the dockyards to rendezvous with Hongjoong and the others. Mingi would get them to the ship, Seonghwa would get them _on_ the ship, and then they would split up – Hongjoong and Seonghwa to free the captives, and Mingi and Yunho to destroy the dampeners keeping them from using their powers. That was the plan.

Getting to the ship was fine – Mingi did the talking, and Seonghwa just tried to look the part of the bored researcher, annoyed at having to go back to work on his night off. Getting on the ship, too, was less stressful than Seonghwa had feared – he just had to stand there and let himself be identified by the system. It was better than if he’d actually had to speak to someone, and to lie. The biometric scan was hardly like lying at all.

The others followed him in.

They’d all been given the layout of the ship to study – Seonghwa didn’t know how Hongjoong had gotten hold of it – and so Seonghwa knew where he was going. In theory. The ‘cages’, as Mingi called them. Seonghwa let Hongjoong take the lead, though, while Mingi and Yunho split off wordlessly into another corridor.

The ship was very different from theirs – the interior in white, the lights up brighter than Seonghwa would have liked. There were coloured lines that ran along the walls for wayfinding, maybe because there was so little else to serve as landmarks.

They didn’t run into anyone; although at one point Hongjoong backed them into another corridor. Seonghwa looked at him quizzically, and Hongjoong gestured back at the corridor and held up two fingers. In a moment, Seonghwa heard the footsteps. He held his breath until they were past.

‘You could hear them?’ Seonghwa asked, when they were clear. He meant psychically.

‘The dampeners don’t block everything,’ Hongjoong said. ‘Come on.’

Finally, they reached the door that was their destination, at the terminus of the purple line.

‘Key card,’ Hongjoong said, turning his back to the wall. Seonghwa fumbled for the card on his belt, and he held it to the card reader by the door. The reader beeped, and lit green; the door slid open.

Seonghwa went in alone, while Hongjoong stood guard. The door led to a shorter corridor, lined with more doors. Each door had a window, and another card reader. If he opened the cells, Seonghwa thought, it would be logged. At least it wasn’t his name on the record.

When Seonghwa went to the first door, though, the cell was empty. The opposite cell was empty as well. Quickly, he checked them all.

Only one cell was occupied. Seonghwa wasn’t sure if that was a relief – that they weren’t in the wrong place altogether – or a horror – because weren’t there meant to be more of the captives here?

The boy in the cell looked up at Seonghwa through the window, his face gone suddenly pale. He turned away from the window, as if hoping not to be noticed. But Seonghwa wasn’t about to walk away.

He let himself return to his usual form, as he swiped the door open, and when the boy looked up at him again, his expression shifted to one of amazement.

‘You’re one of us.’

‘Not exactly,’ Seonghwa said.

There was an urgent knocking from the end of the hall – from Hongjoong. Someone must be coming.

‘We have to go,’ Seonghwa said. ‘Aren’t there others?’

The boy’s expression dimmed. ‘I’m the only one left,’ he said. He stopped to pick up a small notebook, like a diary, before he followed Seonghwa out, but that was apparently the only thing he wanted to keep.

As he walked back down the hall, Seonghwa shifted back to the form of the researcher. He gestured to the boy to stay in the hall, and then he pushed his way out past Hongjoong.

Down the main hallway, a woman approached them, flanked by two guards.

‘Dr Shin,’ said the woman. She looked very proud of herself. ‘Don’t tell me you let _him_ get to you.’

The two guards had their hands on their guns. Seonghwa tried not to see that, and he put on his best look of disdain as he replied.

‘Can’t you see? I’ve captured him.’ He didn’t say _you idiot_ , not knowing where the balance of power lay. It could probably be taken as read.

‘Captured?’ The woman looked taken aback enough that Seonghwa pushed on.

‘We can’t go on losing them at this rate, can we?’ he said. The woman looked baffled. Hongjoong, for his part, did his best to look cowed. ‘We won’t have anything to show for ourselves.’

‘You –’

‘He’s quite docile at the moment,’ Seonghwa went on, ‘aren’t you, Hongjoong?’

Hongjoong looked pained.

The woman said, ‘Since when are you calling them by name?’

And then Seonghwa only had time to think _oh shit_ , before the guards had their guns up.

He grabbed for Hongjoong, pulling him behind him; Hongjoong let out a protest, but Seonghwa didn’t care. It meant when the guards fired, they hit Seonghwa and not Hongjoong. That was what mattered. 

There wasn’t the pain Seonghwa had expected. He looked down at himself, and saw the little dart sticking out his shoulder. A tranquiliser dart. It took a moment for his brain to register, but with the adrenaline coursing through him, a moment was all he needed.

Seonghwa changed. He cast off his human form for the one he’d been born with, and he _roared_ at the woman and the guards.

The guards, to their credit, did not turn and run; they aimed and fired. If Seonghwa’s mind had still been that of the human animal, he would have succumbed. But it was not.

He moved forward, filling the hall with his wingspan, and the guards backed up. The woman stood where she was, a look of idiot fascination on her face.

‘Seonghwa, they did it,’ Hongjoong said behind him, in a croaky voice. Mingi and Yunho did.’ Seonghwa twitched a wing dismissively.

The guards were swapping their tranquiliser guns for their real weapons.

The boy from the cells said, ‘The dampeners are off?’

‘Yes,’ Hongjoong said, ‘but we need the others.’

Seonghwa got shot at; he spread his wings wider, as if his size could threaten the humans into submission. But wings were fragile things, and he felt pain again as one tore.

‘Show me,’ the boy said, to Hongjoong.

And then, as Seonghwa braced himself to be shot at again, the boy grabbed hold of him from behind, and they _moved_.

They were in another corridor. Seonghwa twisted his head, trying to orient himself, and heard Mingi make a small frightened sound. Mingi. He was smaller from this perspective.

‘Take my hand,’ Hongjoong said, reaching out. Mingi and Yunho grabbed hold of him, and then they were transported again.

They were back on the ship. It had happened too fast for Seonghwa to understand it, but he could hear the boy from the ship breathing heavily, from exertion or fear.

Maybe Seonghwa was breathing heavily too. He thought he was bleeding.

‘Seonghwa got hit,’ Hongjoong said.

‘ _That’s_ Seonghwa?’ Yunho said. Seonghwa didn’t know why he was so shocked. But maybe the tranquilisers were starting to get to him.

‘Can you change back?’ Hongjoong touched Seonghwa’s shoulder like Seonghwa were a human still. ‘Yunho won’t know how to treat you like this.’

It was a good point. A true point. It was harder to shift now, though, when he was hurt. It was hard to focus through the pain.

‘Is he okay?’ the boy asked, in a demanding voice.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure. But then he heard Yeosang’s voice saying, ‘What’s going on?’ and suddenly Seonghwa needed to be human very much. To face Yeosang.

Seonghwa changed back.

And whether it was the leftover tranquiliser, or just the stress of the situation, he fainted.

* * *

The faint didn’t last long. When Seonghwa came to, he was still on the floor where he’d fallen. Yeosang was crouched beside him, his forehead creased with concern.

‘Are you sure he was hit?’ Yeosang was asking Hongjoong.

‘I’m okay,’ Seonghwa said.

‘If you just fainted,’ Yeosang said sharply, ‘you’re not okay.’

But whatever wounds Seonghwa had suffered in his other form, they were gone now.

‘I just need to rest,’ Seonghwa said. He sat up and felt dizzy, and grabbed hold of Yeosang for support. ‘The transformation takes care of damage like that.’ He checked his arm, and was relieved to see that the scar from Yeosang’s stitching was still there. Like it was a part of him.

‘Are you a dragon?’ the boy asked behind them.

‘Dragons are a human mythological construct,’ Seonghwa said.

‘O-kay.’ The boy sounded dubious.

‘I’m not human.’

‘Human or not,’ Hongjoong said loudly, ‘you should still wear clothes.’ He must have gone to get them when Seonghwa transformed, because he handed them to him now.

Seonghwa was too tired to feel particularly abashed. To protect Hongjoong’s sensibilities, though, he dressed himself – staying sitting down as much as possible, because if he got too far upright his head began to swim. He didn’t want to pass out again.

Hongjoong herded the others toward the kitchen, and left Seonghwa alone with Yeosang.

‘What happened?’ Yeosang asked, when Seonghwa had dressed and then collapsed back against him.

‘They would have shot Hongjoong,’ Seonghwa said. His head was muddled, now, about the order things had happened in. ‘I think they thought I was controlled up till then. I shouldn’t have done it.’

‘Everyone’s okay though. You all made it back.’

‘I’m not meant to show myself off the homeworld,’ Seonghwa said. He took a deep breath. ‘I guess it doesn’t matter.’ He wasn’t ever going back anyway.

Yeosang let him lean against him, and he stroked his hair. It made Seonghwa feel sleepy. Like it was safe to relax.

‘Should I put you to bed?’ Yeosang asked him, teasing. ‘Hongjoong should have brought you pyjamas.’

‘I’ll get up in a minute.’

Yeosang gave him that much time, and then he bullied him into going to lie down properly. Seonghwa allowed it. He didn’t think Yeosang could pick him up and carry him to bed if he fell asleep on the floor.

They got to his room, and Seonghwa collapsed on the bed. Yeosang sat down beside him. It should have worried Seonghwa, that Yeosang intended to stay with him, but it didn’t. And he slipped easily into sleep, without worry.

* * *

Because he was asleep, Seonghwa missed out on many exciting things – like their sudden and urgent departure from port, and Yeosang telling Hongjoong off for getting Seonghwa hurt (Wooyoung told him that part).

It was hard for Seonghwa to process the extent of what they’d done. What he’d done. No-one on the ship they’d infiltrated had been hurt – Jongho had even freed the researcher whose form Seonghwa had stolen – but they could have been. What Seonghwa had done was a crime, and yet he didn’t regret it at all.

Yeosang had been there when Seonghwa woke up, lying on the bed beside him playing a game. Seonghwa liked watching him, then, when his eyes were focused on the screen, and Seonghwa could stare at him without being noticed.

Except then Yeosang did notice him, but he only smiled, and set his phone aside. ‘Are you feeling a bit better?’

‘I’m hungry,’ Seonghwa said, which was true.

‘We kept you back dinner,’ Yeosang said. ‘I’ll go get it.’

‘Thank you,’ Seonghwa said, and Yeosang waved him off before he left.

When Yeosang came back he held a tray, but he also had the boy they’d rescued with him.

Rescued? Stolen? Seonghwa supposed it depended on who you asked.

‘Mr Not-a-Dragon,’ the boy said.

‘He wanted to say hi,’ Yeosang said – a little embarrassed, Seonghwa thought, to be accompanied.

‘I’m called Seonghwa.’

‘Not Mr Not-a-Dragon, right’ the boy said. ‘I’m San.’

Yeosang put the tray down beside the bed, and Seonghwa sat up so he could eat. It always made him hungry when he shifted species – let alone having to shift back again.

Yeosang sat down beside him. San dithered, until Seonghwa patted the spot on the other side, and then he sat too, watching Seonghwa intently. Like Seonghwa might change forms at any moment.

After Seonghwa had finished his soup, he set the spoon down and asked San, ‘Was it you who brought us back here?’ It had seemed quite normal, in the aftermath of shifting, but with consideration was not normal at all.

‘Your friend showed me where it was,’ San said. He touched his head to indicate. Hongjoong had told him psychically, he meant.

‘I didn’t know he could do that,’ Seonghwa said.

‘Maybe he can’t to you?’

‘I think he just doesn’t like to,’ Yeosang said. ‘He doesn’t like reminding people that actually he can read our minds.’

‘I can’t read people’s minds,’ San said, ‘so don’t worry about that.’ He pulled his legs up in front of him. ‘My sister could,’ he added. He screwed his face up. ‘I wish you’d come sooner.’

‘Sorry,’ Seonghwa said. _I didn’t know_ , he wanted to say, which was silly. People knew bad things were happening in the world all the time, but that didn’t mean they did anything about them.

Some tried though.

He met Yeosang’s eyes, and Yeosang smiled at him.

‘I said San could have my bed,’ he said, ‘if you don’t mind me staying here.’ He looked a little nervous. 

It would mean Seonghwa having someone in the room with him while he slept. It would mean Yeosang seeing his dreaming face.

But how were they meant to carry out a relationship if Seonghwa held back on that account?

‘I don’t mind,’ Seonghwa said. ‘Just don’t freak out if I suddenly look like someone else.’ Yeosang had probably seen it now anyway, putting Seonghwa to bed like he had.

Yeosang laughed. ‘Wooyoung told me about that.’

‘What’s that?’ San asked, and Seonghwa had to explain about the sleep-shifting thing, and answer a ton of other questions besides. He kept eating while they talked, and when he was done, San volunteered to take his tray away, leaving Seonghwa alone with Yeosang.

‘You’re sure you don’t mind me staying here?’ Yeosang said.

‘I’m sure.’

Yeosang took his hand – the same side where he had the scar.

‘If shifting heals you,’ Yeosang said, ‘how come you’ve still got that?’

Seonghwa looked down at the scar.

‘I guess it’s just part of my mental image of myself,’ Seonghwa said. This was who he was now. And it didn’t feel like a lie any more – they’d all seen him shift; they’d been his other form. And it was okay. Yeosang was still here beside him.

Seonghwa laid his head against Yeosang’s shoulder. ‘Will we be being chased now?’

‘Oh, probably,’ Yeosang said. ‘But they’ve tried to catch us before. It’ll be alright.’ He paused. ‘Are you sorry you got involved with us?’

Seonghwa shook his head. ‘I’m glad.’

‘You’re glad?’

‘I didn’t really want to be alone,’ Seonghwa said. ‘Even though I left my life before. I didn’t want to be alone.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Yeosang asked.

And for the first time, Seonghwa found that he did. He didn’t want to keep secrets any more. Not from Yeosang; not from anyone else on the ship.

And so Seonghwa talked, and Yeosang listened. And it was good.


End file.
